Time for Silence Page 21

  “And for me to see you.”

  “We’re so glad you have come.”

  “Your uncle said you would be.”

  “And he was right.”

  My mother came out and kissed him.

  “We were so delighted when we heard the news,” she said.

  “You can imagine how I felt,” Robert replied. “You both look wonderfully well.”

  “It’s the thought of having you at our mercy. We are going to give you the special treatment, aren’t we, Lucinda?”

  “We are,” I replied.

  I felt I had been lifted out of my melancholy.

  The great matter for rejoicing was that he was not badly wounded. He could go out into the garden and did not have to rely completely on the nurses. We found that patients who could help themselves recovered more quickly than the others.

  He knew Marchlands well, of course, and it was for him, he said, like coming home.

  I was happier now. Robert’s presence had made a great difference. I no longer brooded on my folly. It was wonderful to be with someone as uncomplicated as he—someone I could understand and be sure that he meant what he said.

  I could see that my mother was delighted. She could not conceal her feelings from me, any more than I could mine from her. So Robert’s coming had made a difference to us both.

  In the afternoons he would sit in the gardens. The spring days were delightful—long and warm, with just a slight nip in the air to remind us that summer was not yet with us.

  We used to sit together, but not under the sycamore tree. I did not want to be there with Robert because I still remembered too much of my conversations with Marcus. I said I preferred the seat under the oak on the other side of the lawn, and that was enough for Robert. He always made his way to the seat under the oak.

  We talked. We spoke of the old days, recalling incidents which I thought I had forgotten. We laughed a good deal—laughter that meant a happy contentment, because Robert was safely home for a while and we could be together as we had been in the old days.

  I looked forward to every day now. I found I was not thinking of Marcus all the time. It was only occasionally that some memory would come back to me with its little pangs of disappointment…of humiliation and longing.

  I was anxious because when Robert recovered fully it was very likely that he would have to go to war again. But I learned to live for each day as it came along, which was not easy but which I knew was wise. To think of the future when we could not know what would happen, could result in fearful apprehension. In wartime there was a feeling of fatality. I guessed, from Robert’s attitude, that he had acquired the skill of living in the present, and talking to him of the life out there on the battlefields of France and Belgium, I caught it from him.

  So…I was happy during those days with Robert.

  He had changed a little. Such experiences as he had had must change anyone. He was more serious than he had been; there was also a certain recklessness—an odd term to apply to Robert. What I mean is that I sensed a determination to savor the pleasures of the moment.

  He described his experiences so vividly that I could almost hear the gunfire, see the shells exploding around him; I could feel the claustrophobic atmosphere of trench warfare…the horror of going “over the top”…the monotony of eating canned food.

  “I was lucky in a way,” he said. “A lot of my work was done in the field. It was this Morse thing. I didn’t really understand it, but by some fluke I could receive and transmit at a greater speed than most. It was just a knack…some odd method of my own for connecting the dots and dashes with certain landmarks. I won’t attempt to explain, because it is quite dotty. But they thought I was this Morse genius. So my job was to go out with my mechanic, who would fix up the telephone. Then I would spy out the land with my binoculars, discover where the enemy was massing…or where they had set up their guns…and send the message back to our lines. It was quite easy…quite simple. Jim, my mechanic, did all the hard work.”

  “You always denigrate yourself, Robert. You are not a bit like most people.”

  “Really, it was nothing, Lucinda. Quite easy. I was the lucky one…just because by chance I had this formula.”

  “It was very clever of you to work it out.”

  “I didn’t work it out. It just came. However, that was what I was doing when I was hit.”

  “You might have been left out there.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t all that bad. I was able to wait for the advance, and then I was taken back to base. After that…home. Your Uncle Gerald came to see me in the hospital. He said, ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t go to Marchlands.’ I can tell you, Lucinda, it was like saying I was going to Heaven.”

  “Oh…don’t say that.”

  “Heaven on earth,” he corrected.

  “Robert, how bad is your leg?”

  “It’s getting better. I don’t suppose I shall ever walk as I did before, though.”

  “Then…you couldn’t go back.”

  “Not at the moment certainly.”

  “Not ever, Robert,” I said. “I just could not bear it. You’ve told me so much about it. You’ve made me see it. I shall pray that your leg gets better…but slowly and that it is not really well until this wretched war is over.”

  “Dear Lucinda,” he said. “What a nice thing to say.”

  There was great excitement in the hospital when the news came. Robert had won the Military Cross. Nobody was more astonished than Robert himself. He showed the letter to my mother, who called me at once.

  “Just listen to this,” she cried. “Robert is a hero. He’s got the Military Cross.”

  “Really!”

  “He was out in what they call no-man’s-land, and sending messages back as to the enemy’s whereabouts. He was wounded and for that reason could have returned to base, but he did not do so. He remained at his post and continued sending messages, which were so vital that the guns that otherwise would have been destroyed by the enemy were saved. That’s the gist of it. Robert is being decorated for his bravery.”

  I embraced him, kissed him and wept over him.

  “There wasn’t anything else I could have done,” said Robert. “I just went on…that was all.”

  “Stop it, Robert,” I commanded. “You were wonderful. You’re a hero. You’ll go to Buckingham Palace and have a medal pinned on you by the King.”

  There were celebrations throughout the hospital.

  Robert was embarrassed. “Too much fuss,” he said. “It might be a mistake. Really, I was just sending back those messages….”

  “And saving the guns!” I cried. “Shut up, Robert. You’re a hero and we are going to see that everyone knows it.”

  I think he was more pleased about our delight than he was about his own success.

  Aunt Belinda arrived at Marchlands with Annabelinda. They were both exuberant.

  “Isn’t it wonderful? Fancy, Robert…” cried Annabelinda.

  Aunt Belinda said, “We shall go to Buckingham Palace. Big Robert will come up for the occasion. We’re so proud of him.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I said.

  “You look better, Lucinda,” said Annabelinda.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve got lots to tell you.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “We’re going to have a long talk…alone.”

  Aunt Belinda was fussing around Robert. How was he, she wanted to know. She had been so pleased when she had heard he was going to Marchlands.

  “I said to Robert, ‘Darling Lucie will look after him better than anyone. And Lucinda will be there. They were always such friends.’ It will be wonderful to go to the Palace.”

  “Don’t think it is going to be too grand,” said Robert. “There’ll be plenty of others there.”

  “It’s no use pretending it isn’t wonderful, Robbie darling. I’m so proud of you…my little Robbie…a hero!”

  “Oh, Mother, please…�
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  “He’s just like his father,” said Aunt Belinda. “They don’t know how to get the best out of things. You’re a hero, darling. You saved those guns. Don’t forget that, and everyone is going to know it.”

  Robert looked resigned and he and I exchanged smiles.

  I should have liked to go to the Palace with him, but of course too many could not go, and Uncle Robert, Aunt Belinda and Annabelinda were his immediate family.

  I did have my chat with Annabelinda on the first day of their arrival. It was evening. Annabelinda had always liked bedtime chats.

  She came to my room and sat on my bed.

  “I have such news,” she said. “It’s not out yet, but it will be next week. You shall be the first to know.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m going to be married. I am engaged…not officially yet. There has to be a proper announcement. His family, you see.”

  “Engaged?” I said.

  She lowered her eyes, as though she feared to look at me.

  “To Marcus,” she said.

  “Oh…congratulations.”

  “Thank you. It’s not supposed to be known yet, but I couldn’t keep it from you. Besides, I wanted to tell you myself. His people…you’ve no idea. Their house is like a castle. That’s the main house, where his parents live. When we’re married, our house will be on the estate. It’s quite grand…but you should see the ancestral home.”

  “So you are very pleased.”

  She grimaced. “The family is a bit overpowering. I went up there with my parents. They’ve inspected me. It’s like going back in time. All those old conventions. I can’t imagine how I shall live up to them.”

  “No,” I said. “Nor can I.”

  “Well, Marcus is marvelous. Right from the first, I knew.” She looked faintly defiant. “So did he. And we’ll have fun. I shall get him to buy a house in London. If he is going to stay at the War Office, he will have to. That wound makes him unfit for military service. It’s going to be wonderful. It’s only his old family that frightens me. Everything has to be just as it always has been…ceremonial. You’ve no idea. That’s why Marcus is so different. You’d never guess, talking to him, that there had been all that discipline in his life.”

  “When are you going to be married?”

  “Well, first we have to announce the engagement. I’ve only just passed the first test. There will be more vetting, I imagine. They wanted to know all about my family. Marcus said that I’d charm his father and he’ll know how to tackle his mother. I shall be all right. You know how respectable Daddy is. He’s passed muster—socially and financially.”

  “And your mother?”

  “You know how charming she can be.”

  “And you?”

  She looked smug, and I said, “Have you told Marcus?”

  “Told him what?”

  “About your past.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked abruptly.

  “Annabelinda, you know. I mean about Edward.”

  She flushed scarlet. “How can you be so unkind when I’m so happy?” she demanded.

  “You haven’t told him then?”

  “How could I?”

  “Don’t you think he ought to know?”

  “It’s all over. It was just a slip.”

  “There is Edward.”

  “He’s just the little boy you brought from France. People do things like that in wartime. His parents were dead and you took him. Your people have adopted him because of your promise to his mother when she was dying. It’s all…settled.”

  “I thought perhaps you would feel that you must tell your future husband.”

  “How could I? Lucinda, don’t ever talk to me about it. It makes me so unhappy. You’re jealous, I believe.”

  “I am not. I should not like to have a secret like that on my conscience, and I could not be jealous of someone who had. But it is not on your conscience, is it—for the simple reason that you haven’t one.”

  I was talking wildly. I was not sure whether I was angry with her because she was going to marry Marcus or because she talked of Edward as though he were not important.

  She got up and went to the door.

  “I shan’t talk to you anymore. I thought you would like to know. I thought you would be pleased that I had told you first.” She turned and faced me and went on appealingly. “Lucinda, you wouldn’t say a word…?”

  “Of course not. I haven’t ever, have I? And I have known for a long time.”

  “I think it would spoil everything.”

  “I am sure Marcus would understand.”

  “It’s his family. I was surprised. I shouldn’t have thought he would be afraid of anything. But he is in awe of his family. They’ve got to approve, Lucinda. Otherwise he’d be cut off like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Yes, he would, if he did something that was not in the family tradition.”

  “Such as marrying a girl who had had an illegitimate child?”

  “You’re making it sound so awful.”

  “It could have been for poor little Edward.”

  “Well, it wasn’t. And Grandpère Bourdon didn’t think it was so strange. He said it happens here and there in families and the best thing is to get over it with as little fuss as possible. Lucinda, promise me, you’ll never mention it again…to anyone.”

  “I promise. I kept quiet before and perhaps, it has turned out for the best. Edward is happy here. He has a good home and he’ll be all right.”

  “Then it is happily settled, isn’t it? He’s all right. That’s all that matters.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I suppose so.”

  She was looking happy again and I was sorry I had said what I had. That was how it was with Annabelinda. I might rail against her one moment, and the next I would be trying to placate her.

  She came over and kissed me. “I know I can always rely on you, Lucinda.”

  “Well, I suppose you can.”

  After she left, I could not stop myself from thinking of Marcus. I was not really surprised that it had turned out this way.

  I did wonder whether at one time he had begun to care seriously for me. With Marcus one would never know. As for Annabelinda, she would go through life untroubled, I suspected. She would feel no guilt about her secret and her unacknowledged child, simply because she had the gift of being able to shut out anything that was detrimental to herself. She was able to convince herself that it had never happened, until someone—like me—brought it up in such a way as to make it impossible to deny it had taken place.

  Two weeks later there was an announcement in the papers of the engagement of Major Merrivale to Annabelinda Denver.

  In due course Robert went to the Palace to receive his medal, Aunt Belinda, Uncle Robert and Annabelinda with him.

  And afterward he returned to Marchlands. Someone from the press came down; pictures were taken and there was a piece in the paper about his gallantry.

  I thought Robert looked very fine in his uniform with the silver and mauve ribbon attached to his coat. There was no doubt that his family was very proud of him. There were tears in Uncle Robert’s eyes and Aunt Belinda positively beamed.

  She was contented with life; her son decorated for bravery, and her daughter—without a season, which was not possible during the war—engaged to a very eligible young man.

  The war was not so bad for Aunt Belinda and her family after all.

  A Revelation

  I WAS STAYING FOR a few days in London, as I did now and then. On this occasion I had come to town to make some arrangements about patients who would shortly be sent to Marchlands from one of the big hospitals. I also had some purchases to make.

  It was pleasant to be with my father, who would return with me to Marchlands at the weekend. He was very preoccupied at this time. I knew that he had a great deal on his mind, and I think he enjoyed dining quietly with me alone. In some respects he was more hopeful about the war. He told me that the first contingent of Americ
ans was expected in June.

  “This will have a demoralizing effect on the enemy,” he said. “And we can do with their help, of course.”

  “Do you think the end is in sight?”

  “Well, perhaps not exactly in sight. Round the corner maybe. There’s one thing that makes me uneasy.”

  He sat biting his lips while I waited for him to go on.

  Then he looked at me steadily and said, “There’s something wrong somewhere. Secrets…top secrets…are being betrayed.”

  “How?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “There are bound to be spies around. Even in peacetime they are here, and in wartime…although it is more difficult for them to operate, their efforts are intensified. But lately…You remember the affair at Milton Priory?”

  “You never found out how that came about?”

  He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I was deeply involved in that. I felt responsible. I am sure someone had been at my papers. It’s unsettling. Well, we can only be watchful. But some of these people are devilishly clever.”

  “Perhaps it will all be over soon. Won’t that be wonderful?”

  He agreed that it would.

  It was the next day when Tom Green, one of the men from the stables at Marchlands, arrived at the house.

  I was astonished to see him and thought for a moment that something must be very wrong.

  I must have betrayed my anxiety for he said quickly, “All’s well at Marchlands, Miss Lucinda. It’s just that a woman came. She seemed to be most upset-like…and wanted to give a letter to you….And, as I had to come up to London on an errand for Mrs. Greenham…to the hospital here…I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes.”

  “A woman?”

  “Yes, miss. Really upset she was…in quite a state. She asked for you. She didn’t want to see anyone else. She was real distressed when I told her you were away.”

  “Did she give her name?”

  “No, miss. All she said was she wanted to see Miss Lucinda Greenham, and when I said I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, she said she would write a note to you. So I settled her down with pen and paper and she wrote and I gave her an envelope and she said to put this with a letter she’d brought and she said would I give it to you the moment you came back. I said I would. I was right-down sorry for her. So I took the opportunity-like…”